


Storm

by jupiter23



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Breastfeeding, Childbirth, F/M, Other, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter23/pseuds/jupiter23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when you take a pregnant fairy princess who's going stir-crazy and her equally perturbed husband and strand them somewhere in the kingdom during a rain storm? Why, one of two things is bound to happen....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> My first fan fic ever, so should you decide to comment, please be gentle.

Marianne chanced another glance over her shoulder as she continued on towards the kitchens. It was rather unfair, she thought, having to sneak out of her own home just to get some time out of it and alone. But that seemed to come with the territory of her pregnancy and with being both a queen and heir to another throne at the same time. Ever since she and Bog had found out they were expecting this baby, no one would leave her alone. Her father, Griselda, and Bog all seemed to have declared a personal war on one another over Marianne’s care. Bog, for his part, at least considered anything Marianne actually wanted. He did at least try to argue on her behalf when Griselda and Dagda would start up again. Well, Bog and Dawn, and therefore Sunny by default.

And as her pregnancy wore on, the arguments became more and more frequent, until it got to the point that the only thing Bog, Dagda, and Griselda all adamantly agreed on was that Marianne was staying inside the castle until after she had the baby. (This was, of course, after a heated debate about which castle it would be. The Dark Forest castle finally won out.) That left Dawn and, naturally, Sunny, as Marianne’s only allies. Neither one had seen a point to keeping Marianne confined indoors. And that was when Dawn came up with the brilliant idea of herself and Sunny creating a distraction at the front of the castle so Marianne could sneak out the back. All Marianne knew of their plan was that Lizzie, and somehow the Imp, would be involved. After that, she didn’t want to know any more. She would just have to remember that she seriously owed them one for this, assuming she made it outside. 

So here she was, her sword strapped between her wing and shoulder with a baldric Dawn had commissioned for her when she announced her pregnancy (she really, _really_ owed Dawn for that one; Dawn knew Marianne wouldn’t want to be unarmed if she could help it) and sneaking down towards the currently unoccupied kitchens. Judging from the commotion emanating from the front of the castle, she had to guess Dawn and Sunny’s distraction was proving successful. She figured she had maybe an hour before anyone noticed her missing, and she’d probably get another hour outside before anyone found her. Maybe even two if she could hide herself well enough. She was personally hoping she could make it all the way until early evening and then make it back herself. Sure, everyone would be upset with her, but she would deal with that when the time came. 

Marianne made it to the door leading to the kitchens and took one more look over her shoulder, watching as she pushed the door open just to make sure no one was following her. She slipped through the door and there, finally, was the one last door between her and the brightly lit day waiting for her outside. 

In her excitement, however, Marianne had forgotten to make a visual sweep of the room. She had eased the door from the hallway shut and was halfway across the room when the sound of a throat being cleared stopped her cold. 

_Damn it!_

Marianne knew who it was without even needing to turn around. Although how Bog had gotten there so fast, she had to admit she was morbidly curious to hear. She let out a defeated sigh and turned around, a sheepish grin forming on her lips. And there he was, of course, leaning with his back against the wall in the shadows behind the door, arms folded across his chest and his staff propped up next to him. He had his eyes trained on her as if his gaze alone were the thing keeping her rooted to the spot. 

“Now I have to admit,” he began before she could say anything, “that this plan of yours is rather admirable. Remind me to congratulate Dawn and Sunny later for their part in it.” 

“Will do!” Marianne exclaimed brightly, then chanced a glance at her escape route. Bog didn’t miss it and let out an exasperated breath at her motion. 

“Really?” he deadpanned. 

Marianne met his eyes again. This time she could feel irritation building and it was all she could do to not snap back at him and turn this into a screaming match that would no doubt rival whatever Dawn and Sunny had started out in front of the castle and bring everyone running. And that would really kill whatever chance she had left of getting out that door. 

Bog finally pushed off of the wall and came to stand before her, his hands resting on his hips now. And now he was standing too close to her. She could feel her chance at freedom slipping away. Marianne briefly toyed with the idea of pulling her sword on him. He had left his staff by the wall, and it wasn’t like he’d engage her in a fight in her current condition anyway. But then it would be an empty threat, because she’d never actually hurt him with it. So that wasn’t going to work. What to do, then? 

And then Bog let out another exasperated sigh and broke the silence. “You know why we don’t want you going outside,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. 

Marianne had opened her mouth, prepared to start arguing anyway, when the very thing even she didn’t expect to happen happened. She couldn’t decide whether she should thank her hormones or curse them for this plan, but it didn’t matter, because they took over and ran with it. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and then her face crumpled up. The next thing she knew, her face was buried in her hands and she had swung away from Bog and was crying quietly, shoulders hunched and shaking with every sob. 

Marianne had never cried in front of Bog before. In fact, since the day his castle had collapsed and she thought he had died, there had been nothing since then to truly upset her enough to move her to tears. And she was only embarrassed at herself now, which only made her more upset. 

Bog, for his part, was at a complete loss for what to do about this. All he could do was stand there in terrified confusion, blinking rapidly, mouth hanging open, and a hand partially extended towards her while his brain went into overdrive trying to come up with something to calm her down. Bog decided to try reasoning with her again. 

“Look, Marianne--,” he started, laying a hand on her shoulder, but immediately cut off when she shrugged it off. Okay, that actually stung a little. 

And then Marianne regained enough of her breath to speak, voice coming out ragged and broken. “All I wanted--,” she started, hiccupping, “was a little time—“another sob, “outside—“ 

“I know,” he said quietly and a touch guiltily. He didn’t try to touch her again. 

“I’m just--,” she continued, drawing in a deep breath, and her voice seemed to be gaining strength again. Then she finally turned back around to face him, and he was struck speechless again at the sight of her tearstained face.

“I’m gonna have the baby soon,” she continued, picking up speed as she spoke, “and I won’t get to do much of anything else for who knows how long because I’ll be stuck in here and everyone is determined to not listen to me and just once I wanted some fresh air and sunlight and some time to think and—and—“she ended on another round of sobbing, her face going back to her hands. 

Bog was again at a loss. He wanted to hug her, offer her some kind of comfort, but he knew it wouldn’t help. She was mad at him and at everyone else and she just wouldn’t accept it. Then he looked over at the door leading outside. He didn’t really have any other options, did he? He bit back a groan. He had the strong feeling he was going to regret this later. 

He drew in a breath and let it out, and then looked back at Marianne. “Alright, alright,” he conceded. She finally looked up at him, blinking in near disbelief. “You can go out for a little while.” Her face lit up at this. “On one condition, though,” he continued before she could turn and run for the door. 

“Which is…?” she asked, sniffling and wiping at a cheek with the back of her hand.

He turned and retrieved his staff from the wall behind him and then returned to her. “I’m going with you.” 

His answer was Marianne throwing her arms around his waist and giving him a grateful hug. Bog chuckled under his breath and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Now let’s go before I change my mind,” he said. Marianne giggled at this, grabbed his hand, and all but ran for the door. Had Marianne turned around, she would have seen Bog smiling at her back at her eagerness. 

 

Once outside, Marianne turned her face towards the sun, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Freedom at last! Okay, so maybe for an hour or two, and Bog was coming with her, but it was better than going back to their chambers and dealing with everyone fussing over her. Then she stretched her wings out and took to the air, Bog close behind her. She was grateful that at least her ability to fly hadn’t really been affected by her growing mid-section. Marianne reveled in the feel of the wind in her hair as she led the two of them away from the castle and into the Dark Forest. 

They were just over the Fairy Kingdom side of the border with the Dark Forest when Marianne finally found a place to land next to one of the streams that ran through the Fairy Kingdom, settling on a flat rock near the water and leaning back on her hands to just bask in the sunlight. Bog took up a post next to her and busied himself with keeping a watch on their surroundings. 

Bog was still trying to process the transition Marianne had made in the few seconds she had been on the other side of the castle walls. It was like a great stress had been taken off of her, and she seemed much more contented and relaxed. It only multiplied when she had taken flight. He would have to speak to his mother and Dagda about letting her have a bit more freedom of movement when they got home, he decided. He was plenty concerned about her safety, not to mention the safety of their unborn baby, but he was starting to think that none of that would matter much if Marianne were pushed to the breaking point over all of this. Besides, he had no intention of either running a kingdom or being a parent without her. 

After a little while, Marianne gave one of his wings a tug. When he turned to her, he noted that she had flopped down on her back completely, wings spread out under her and one hand tracing patterns on her distended belly. The other hand was still latched onto his wing and she was giving him a lazy smile. 

“Come on, Bog! Sit down with me,” she said. 

He let out a quiet laugh, but said, “Technically, you’re not _sitting_. And if I do that, then who’s going to watch the skies?” 

“You can watch them from here,” she countered, ignoring his jibe. She still held on to his wing. 

Bog rolled his eyes and complied with her. “Only because it’ll make you stop trying to pull my wing off, Tough Girl.” Marianne only snorted and let go of his wing. She used her now free arm to pillow her head while Bog settled down next to her and resumed his watch. 

More time passed in comfortable silence this way until the sun had noticeably shifted position in the sky. Even Bog would have been content to stay where they were a little longer had he not noticed the clouds gathering on the horizon. He decided that he wouldn’t chance sitting around long enough to see if they were moving in their direction or not. When he turned to point it out to Marianne and let her know it was time to leave, he saw that she had fallen asleep. 

Under normal circumstances, Bog was loath to awaken Marianne from any form of sleep. She tended to be cranky when woken up. And she’d be doubly cranky at having to go home. But even Marianne wouldn’t argue with an approaching storm. He’d have to chance her wrath then. 

Bog put a hand to her arm and gently shook her. “Marianne?” he called. 

Marianne only swatted sleepily at his hand in answer. Bog remained undeterred. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s time to go.” 

This time Marianne rolled onto her side away from Bog and muttered something that sounded like “Five more minutes,” pulling her wing over herself. 

Bog let out an irritated huff and shook her shoulder a bit harder. “There’s a storm coming, and don’t think I won’t carry you home, because I will.” 

That finally got her attention. Marianne pulled herself out of sleep with a yawn and a stretch, the audible _crack!_ of vertebrae readjusting themselves with her movements. “Do it and I’ll break your arm,” Marianne said sleepily. 

“Of course you will, Tough Girl,” Bog agreed while helping Marianne up. “As long as you wait until we get home.” 

“Why should I wait that long? You don’t need your arms to—OW!!” Marianne’s argument was cut off on a sharp cry of pain, one hand flying to her stomach and the sharp movement coming from her womb forcing her to sit back down on the rock. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Bog asked, concern forcing all thoughts of broken limbs out of his head. Marianne was rubbing at the spot she had laid her hand on. 

“He kicked me. Really hard.” 

Bog sighed in relief. “Well, maybe he thinks you shouldn’t threaten people with bodily harm for waking you up,” he chided. 

Marianne made a face at that. “Or maybe he agrees with me and just doesn’t want to go,” she argued. 

Bog only rolled his eyes. Then he leaned his staff against the rock and moved to stand in front of Marianne, going down to his knees. Then he put a hand to either side of her stomach and leaned in to press a cheek to the swell of her abdomen. 

“Don’t kick your mother so hard, yeah?” he said to the baby. His only answer, of course, was the feeling of the baby shifting under his hands and cheek and another kick. And also another face from Marianne. 

“Or how about don’t kick your mother at all?” she corrected. Bog only laughed and pressed a kiss to the swell of her abdomen and then stood back up and retrieved his staff. Then he helped Marianne back to her feet and both of them took to the air. 

That was when Marianne finally noticed the sky. “You didn’t tell me it was moving in fast,” she said. 

Bog turned to look in the direction she was referring to. “It wasn’t. And truth be told, I didn’t know for sure it was coming this way at first.” 

“Well, in that case, thanks for waking me up,” Marianne said as they both resumed flying back towards the Dark Forest. 

Bog rolled his eyes and shook his head at her. “Don’t mention it.” 

 

The best piece of advice Bog’s father had ever given him was to trust his gut instinct. But even Bog would be the first one to admit he didn’t always remember this until something had happened, and then he would think back on the matter later and mentally smack himself for not listening to his father yet again. This turned out to be one of those times.   
They were about halfway back to the castle and on the Dark Forest side of the border when he realized he should have listened to his earlier feeling of dread and tried to talk Marianne down from this little field trip. As it was, the previously clear sky rapidly darkened and the wind picked up, forcing them to slow down and fly lower to the ground to stay under it. That alone wouldn’t have been that bad, no. 

They had darted around to the leeward side of a tree during a particularly strong gust of wind when Marianne gave a sharp cry of pain and dropped from the air, both hands going to her swollen abdomen and her legs curling in on herself. Bog spat out a curse and dove, catching her before she fell very far. He then landed them between the roots of the tree and out of the wind. That was when he knew something was really wrong. Marianne was only still on her feet because Bog had his arms braced around her shoulders, and her breath kept catching in obvious pain. 

“Marianne, talk to me! What’s going on?” Bog cried out, fear creeping into his voice. 

Marianne forced as deep a breath as she could manage and tried to answer. “I think—AAAUUGGH!!” She doubled over as another wave of pain wracked her body. 

It took Bog less than a second to put it together. “No. No no no no no. You can’t be having the baby now.” He knew denial wouldn’t stop what was happening, but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

Marianne shot him a pain-filled glare “I don’t—AAAHH!—“ a shallow breath, “think—SHIT!—that we’re getting a choice here!” Her snapping ended on another moan of pain.   
Marianne doubled back over and slumped deeper into Bog’s arms. 

All Bog could do then was let out a snarl of irritation and hold Marianne while she finished riding out the contraction. Finally, what in reality only lasted about another minute seemed like an eternity when Marianne finally relaxed enough to start breathing normally again. 

While she caught her breath, Bog took another look around. The sky had darkened even further in the few minutes they had spent on the ground, if that were possible. His blood ran cold at this, and he must have tightened his grip on Marianne, because she started squirming uncomfortably under his hands. He thought he heard her say something to him, but when he looked down at her, his brain clicked. Bodily harm be damned, they couldn’t stay here. And she likely wouldn’t be able to fly the rest of the way anyway. Without another word he swept her up into his arms and started flying again. Marianne didn’t protest. 

 

Marianne could feel the tension radiating off of Bog as they flew. She knew he was probably really unhappy with her right now. This had been her idea, after all. And they hadn’t let anyone know where they were going before they left. But it wasn’t like she knew the storm was coming, much less that she would go into labor on the way home. No, this wasn’t anyone’s fault. She knew she’d have to remember that, because if she knew Bog, despite his show of temper he’d start blaming himself for this. 

Marianne’s thoughts were cut short when rain drops finally started falling. Bog stopped short in the leeward side of another tree. The wind hadn’t let up at all, and Marianne realized they had only made it a few more trees over. She could almost hear the string of curses straining to leave Bog’s mouth as they both started looking around, both of them knowing without needing to say it that it was time to take shelter. Marianne noticed a hollow higher up in one of the surrounding trees and hoped it wasn’t occupied already. She nudged Bog and motioned to it. He immediately flew for it. 

They made it to the hollow just as the rain started to fall in earnest. It was thankfully devoid of any other life. The only sign that something had once been there were the remnants of a long-abandoned bird’s nest. Marianne barely had time to be relieved over being out of immediate danger when she was gripped by another contraction. This time she was ready for the pain and tried to focus on breathing through it. She was vaguely aware of Bog setting her down on the floor of their temporary shelter and talking to her in as soothing a voice as he could probably manage for the moment, but she didn’t want to take the chance of shifting her concentration to figure out what he was saying. 

The first thing she was aware of when the contraction finally subsided was Bog holding her hand. She hadn’t even realized she had shut her eyes. As soon as she blinked them open, though, he left her side and moved deeper into the hollow. She could barely make him out in the nearly pitch-black interior of their shelter, it had gotten so dark. Then she could hear the sounds of shifting sticks and foliage as Bog started taking apart what was left of the bird’s nest that hadn’t already fallen apart. 

She started to think her earlier fears were proving true when the low sound of growling registered on her ears. Bog only growled like that when he was irritated about something. That and the fact that he was tearing at the nest like it had insulted Griselda. Marianne let out an inaudible sigh and massaged her temple with one hand. She could feel a tension headache forming. She would have to take care of this now before more pressing matters demanded her attention. 

“Bog?” she called out to him. Her only answer was his head turning in her direction from where he was knelt over the nest, stopping only long enough to acknowledge that he’d heard her. But then he restarted his sorting almost as fast as he’d stopped. So he was mad at her too then. 

Unfortunately for Bog, Marianne had already decided that they didn’t have time for this. She glared at his back and started working on getting up off the floor. Fortunately he had put her down near the opening of the hollow, so she was able to brace one hand on the ledge of it. And he’d also left his staff propped up on the wall on the other side of her. 

Marianne managed lever herself to her feet. If she had made any noise in her efforts to pull herself up, Bog didn’t give any sign that he had noticed. She propped his staff back up on the wall and went to join him in taking apart the nest. She was correct in her assumption that he hadn’t heard her trying to get up, because as soon as she knelt down at his side and started working he gave a slight start. But again, he resumed separating sticks and twigs from leaves, grass, and bits of tree bark as quickly as he had started. And his irritated state only seemed to grow with her right there. Marianne thought it best to just go ahead and apologize right then. 

“Okay, look, I’m sorry, alright? If I had known this would happen—“ 

“Don’t apologize,” Bog cut her off abruptly, pulling another stick from the nest and picking a feather out of some leaves and tossing them both to their respective piles. Marianne froze in the act of separating some leaves and merely blinked at Bog, lips parting with a retort on the tip of her tongue. But then Bog flung down the double fist full of grass and twigs he was holding and scrubbed both hands over his face. When he lowered his hands, Marianne could see the worry and self-loathing, and dare she say it, fear, creeping into his expression. 

That alone shocked Marianne into silence. The last time she had seen him looking so scared had been when he was trying to stutter out his feelings for her at the site of his recently collapsed castle. But that had been a different kind of fear that day. No, that day it had been a fear of rejection. This was different. This was much deeper than that. 

“This is my fault,” he said quietly. 

“Bog—“ 

He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If I had been on your side more—Listened to you more—“ He stopped and drew in a shaky breath. 

Marianne tried again. “Bog, this isn’t—“ 

But Bog was on a roll now. His voice was starting to pick up speed and it was clear he was very near to a blind panic. 

“You wouldn’t have felt the need to sneak off the way you did—“

“Bog—“

“--and we wouldn’t be stranded here alone—“

“But Bog—“

“--and what if something happens to you or the baby? I won’t be able to do anything to help either of you—“ 

“BOG!” Marianne nearly shouted, putting a hand to each one of his cheeks and forcing him to look at her. His eyes were glimmering with unshed tears and his breathing was shallow. He tried to pull away from her, but she held him firm. 

“Hey,” she said calmly, “we’re going to be fine, okay? _All of us._ Okay? Now _breathe_.” 

It took a few seconds for what Marianne said to sink through Bog’s panic, but then he blinked and nodded at her. Then he forced in a deeper breath and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Marianne wrapped her own arms around his shoulders and held him, fingers stroking the back of his neck. Even when he finally began to relax under her arms, she still didn’t release him. They both knew she wouldn’t let go until he was sure he could hold himself together. 

Another minute passed this way with Bog eventually relaxing a little more. Marianne was about to ask him if he was feeling better when he surprised her by speaking first. 

“It’s hurting you. I don’t like that this is hurting you,” his voice was a bit ragged and somewhat muffled due to his face still being pressed into Marianne’s shoulder. His arms also tightened around her by a fraction. Marianne’s eyes pricked at this and she tightened her own embrace in return. Her lips pulled up in an affectionate smile. 

“Hey, I can handle this, alright?” she said reassuringly. It didn’t relieve his tension, however. That alone told Marianne that that wasn’t what was really going on here. He had always trusted in her ability to take care of herself. Her being pregnant had been the only exception to this rule. 

“Talk to me, Bog,” she gently coaxed. It was a few seconds before Bog finally spoke up.

“It’s just…” he started, and then paused. Marianne waited patiently for him to continue. “It’s….Nevermind. It’s stupid. I’m just being foolish.” 

“Tell me anyway,” Marianne said. 

Bog let out a defeated breath at this and answered. “Is it…well…is it supposed to hurt so much?” 

Whatever Marianne had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. Her eyes widened slightly and blinked a few times with shock, and then she couldn’t help herself. She snorted, and then she started laughing. 

Bog finally released her then. “What is so funny?” he growled out defensively. 

“You didn’t—“ she paused to get her laughter under control, then tried again. “You didn’t know?” 

“Wait, is this supposed to be painful?” he asked, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Yes! Or don’t you remember your mother talking about it every chance she got?” 

“Believe me, I do. But my mother has also been known to wildly embellish stories as well.” 

Marianne managed to contain her laughter this time, though some giggles still broke through. “She wasn’t making it up. It comes with the territory of childbirth.” 

Marianne could see the tension lifting from Bog’s expression now and he let out a relieved breath. She opened her mouth to say something else when another contraction hit. She returned her focus to breathing through the pain, and this time she could feel Bog’s arms return around her, one hand going to her abdomen to rub at her stomach. 

When it was over, she drew in a breath through her nose, shot him a pain-filled grin and said, “See there? Totally got this.” 

It was Bog’s turn to laugh, but there was still a tinge of worry to his overall demeanor. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’re here alone,” he pointed out. 

Marianne pulled away from him then, having fully caught her breath and the pain abating for a moment. She turned back to the nest and continued pulling it apart. Bog also turned back to dismantling the nest. 

“You know, I’m actually sort of glad it’s just us,” Marianne said. 

Bog stopped and shot her a disbelieving look, his mouth opening and drawing in a breath. Marianne could see the tirade coming and quickly waved her hands at him, explaining before he could speak. “No no! I didn’t mean it like that!” she exclaimed. Bog let out the breath and closed his mouth, arching an eyebrow at her and waiting for her explanation. 

“I meant that I’m glad it’s just us here, because if we were at home, Dad would have insisted on about fifty dignitaries being in the room also, and then your mom would have argued with him about them _not_ being there at all, and then you would have started arguing about all of them leaving altogether, and that would have just started yet _another_ fight and I would really have not been in the mood for that.”

“Ah,” Bog nodded in understanding. She knew he wouldn’t have been in the mood for that either. They both returned to work on the nest. 

“And anyway,” Marianne continued, “I would have probably yelled at all of you to leave, and then felt bad about it because I would have wanted you there and probably Dawn too, but asking the two of you back in would have started yet _another_ fight.” 

“Has the arguing actually been _that_ bad?” Bog asked her. 

“Yes!” Marianne answered, relieved that Bog finally understood. Besides the palace staff, Dawn had basically been the only one who hadn’t gotten involved in the fighting over Marianne’s care and Marianne just plain would have wanted Bog there. 

“It’s no wonder you wanted out so badly then,” Bog said thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t blame you for that. But didn’t you know?” 

Marianne glanced in his direction. “Know what?” 

“This. That you would…” he made a waving motion with his hand in the general direction of her stomach. 

“That I would start having the baby?” 

“Yes.” 

“No. You have to believe me, I didn’t know this would happen,” Marianne told him. Bog seemed satisfied with that and stood up, going to the sizable pile of sticks and twigs and grabbing a few off the top. He then arranged them in another pile near the opening of the hollow and came back over to her, pulling her sword from its sheath over her shoulder. Then he went and retrieved his staff from the wall and returned to the second pile. Marianne returned to pulling grass and leaves from the nest while he worked. 

“So explain to me again,” he said a minute later between striking her sword against his staff, sparks flying over the stick pile, “just why fairies need so many people present to watch a woman have a baby?”

“Huh?” she asked, looking up in his direction. 

“You remember when you and your father told me about your mother, on the day you and your sister were born?” Bog clarified. Some of the sparks finally caught and Bog crouched down to blow on them and coax them into flames. 

“Yes?”

“Explain that to me again, because I still don’t get it,” Bog said. His sparks finally complied and turned into flames, and soon light flooded into the small space. Bog returned his staff to the wall and came back over to her, reaching over her shoulder to re-sheathe her sword.

“Like we said before--,” Marianne started, but was cut off by another contraction. Bog held her once again while she breathed through it. When it passed, Bog helped her to her feet and they both moved to the leaf pile, where Bog helped her settle on to it. 

“Anyway,” Marianne started again while unbuckling her baldric and pulling her sword out from under her shoulder. “It’s in keeping with royal custom.”

Bog took the sword and laid it aside and helped Marianne rearrange her wings so she wasn’t lying on them and waited for her to continue. He still didn’t get it. 

“It’s to make sure the birth is legitimate?” 

“I understand that part, what I don’t understand is why so many. And for that matter, why it’s even in question.” 

Marianne finally understood his confusion. When they had first had what had started out as a conversation which soon evolved into yet another argument between Bog, Dagda, and Griselda, Bog hadn’t understood then the point of a bunch of politicians attending a birth. Not even that of a member of royalty. It just wasn’t something that was done in the Dark Forest. (And besides, to hear Griselda tell it, she would have killed anyone who would have dared to come into the room the day she gave birth to Bog that didn’t need to be there. And if it had ever been a tradition there, then Griselda would have been responsible for putting an end to it simply because everyone else would have been more afraid of her than of keeping to an outdated tradition.)

“Ah,” Marianne said. Bog had finished rearranging her wings by this point and sat down in front of her. Marianne let out an annoyed huff of air and said, “Truth be told, I never really got it, either. I got to be with Mama when she was having Dawn, and even then I didn’t understand why all these strangers had to be there. I don’t think Mama or the mid-wives wanted them there, either, but there was nothing any of us could do about it.” 

Bog still didn’t look satisfied, but he accepted that it was the best answer Marianne or any other fairy would be able to give him. “I still don’t like the idea,” he said. “It just seems like a violation of some kind.” 

Marianne blinked at him for a second, and then within the next second she leaned forward, latched a hand under the scales at his neck, and pulled him forward into a kiss. The motion was so sudden that Bog froze for a second before he melted into it. When they broke, he gazed at her with the slightly dazed look he always wore after one of their kisses. 

“What was that for?” he asked with a touch of amusement. 

“Because you understand better than you think you do. And also that was a thank you for taking me out today.”

Bog snorted out a laugh. “Anytime, Tough Girl. Especially when you kiss me like that.” 

 

They spent the next few hours this way. Marianne’s contractions came closer together at a gradual pace. Bog remained next to her, holding her through each one while she shut her eyes and focused on breathing while she rode out the pain. He only left her side to feed the fire. At one point she wanted her boots off (the same boots she insisted on continuing to wear throughout her pregnancy, although even Dawn tried to get her to switch to something more practical) and so Bog had to help her pull them off, setting them aside next to her discarded sword. 

It wasn’t long after that that Marianne wanted to be up and moving around. Bog obliged her, helping her back to her feet and letting her lean on his arm as they paced the small space of their shelter. All the while, the storm outside showed no sign of letting up. And now the darkness of nighttime was beginning to set in. Whatever hope Bog had still been holding on to that they might still be able to make it back to the castle faded with the meager daylight. Flying during a rainstorm was only an issue for Marianne, and flying during the night time was not an issue for either one of them. But during a rainstorm at night, it just wasn’t happening. They wouldn’t be able to see to fly, and would be lucky if they didn’t manage to get lost. 

Bog had taken glances outside when he thought Marianne wasn’t looking. She did notice however, and saw his worry threatening to set back in. She eventually made him aware of this when she finally fussed at him about it. He had thought he had every right to worry, but she seemed to have faith in him. He was actually glad that at least one of them did, because it was looking more and more like he was going to be delivering this baby. And to say that this terrified Bog would have been an understatement. He’d never watched a woman have a baby before, and only knew the basic mechanics about how the whole process worked. His only other information came from his mother, who more than once throughout his life had threatened him with all the gory details of his birthday. 

Not to mention the fact that at times he still had trouble believing that any woman, much less the crown princess of the Fairy Kingdom, would have fallen in love with him and even stayed in love with him long enough to want to have his baby. That feeling didn’t happen often anymore, and really only resurfaced when they’d found out Marianne was pregnant. And now here they were, and it was actually happening. It took a bit of effort for him to force his thoughts to stay with Marianne and not give in to his fear and panic again. She needed him, and she needed him to keep it together. Besides, he couldn’t have her worrying about him again when she had more important things to worry about. 

Between contractions, they chatted about nothing in particular. Bog supposed it was one of the only reasons that he hadn’t succumbed to panic again. Having something else to focus his thoughts on certainly did help him. Or maybe Marianne was also picking up on it and keeping him distracted on purpose. He wouldn’t put it past her. 

 

It was hours later, by Bog’s estimation, when he finally decided to ask Marianne about exactly what Dawn and Sunny had planned on doing that would keep everyone from noticing Marianne sneaking out the proverbial back door. He had been in the middle of helping Marianne to take off her leggings (that she also still insisted on wearing, despite the longer-cut and higher-waisted dresses she had taken to wearing when she started showing) when it occurred to him that he really didn’t want to be surprised when they finally got home. 

“I didn’t ask,” Marianne responded when Bog asked. “When Dawn suggested getting the Imp involved, I told her I really didn’t want to know anymore.” 

Bog tossed Marianne’s leggings over her boots and ground his teeth in irritation. “So that explains why that furry little pain in the ass was there,” he said in comprehension while he helped Marianne back to her feet. 

“Yeah,” she said on a grunt of pain as Bog got her on her feet and she started pacing again, leaning heavily on his arm. “I could hear all the noise and the yelling, but I figured I would find out just what they did when I got back. I wouldn’t put it past any of them if something was broken, though.”

This only made Bog grind his teeth harder, and he didn’t bother to contain the growl rising from his chest. Marianne giggled. 

“Look at it this way,” she said, giving him a nudge in the side with her shoulder. “At least when we get back, as soon as everyone starts yelling at you for taking me out of the castle, you’ll have something to yell back at them about.” 

Bog’s growl morphed into a laugh. They had stopped in front of the entrance to the hollow. They had been stopping here more and more. Marianne said it was because it felt cooler here. She had started feeling warm to the touch, and Bog wondered if she wasn’t developing a fever. Marianne had insisted she felt fine, considering her current situation. Bog would have to take her word for it. 

“By the way, how did you know it was all a diversion in the first place?” Marianne asked. 

“Because I know you, Tough Girl. I knew how badly you wanted to go out. And Dawn and Sunny tearing through the castle with that lizard and the Imp was a bit too convenient.” 

“Okay, but how—“ Marianne’s next question was cut off with another contraction. They were coming a lot faster now, and this time Marianne had started to sweat as well. 

“How did I know where to find you?” Bog finished for her as she gritted her teeth and forced herself to take deep breaths. She could only nod her head in affirmation. 

“Because that was the logical place to go if you didn’t want anyone to see you leave,” he answered simply as her latest contraction passed and she swiped a hand over her brow. Some of her hair was sticking to her forehead. 

“Well, that was why I chose it,” Marianne said on a drag of air. “I knew no one would be there and I wasn’t in a mood to explain myself.” 

Bog shot her a look that said “And yet, look what happened” as he knelt down in front of her and tore a strip from the hem of her dress. 

“So explain the tears to me then,” Bog said as he held the strip of flower petal in the downpour outside. 

Marianne winced, and Bog knew her labor had nothing to do with it. He brought the strip back in and started bathing her forehead with it. She seemed marginally more relieved at this. “I seriously didn’t mean to start crying. It just…happened. So I went with it.” 

“And made me feel like shit at the same time,” Bog finished for her. He was holding the strip to the back of her neck now, and she seemed to be reveling in the sensation of the cool water relieving the tension that had built up there. She had shut her eyes and was leaning into his hands. 

“It worked, though, didn’t it?” she pointed out. Bog had nothing to say to that and only shook his head. 

They were still standing like this when it happened. Marianne had her hands at her stomach, rubbing at her sore abdomen. Bog had moved behind her and had moved one hand down to massage the muscles between her wings while the other held the damp petal strip to the back of her neck. Suddenly Marianne jerked forward with a cry of pain and clutched at her stomach. She would have fallen forward into the fire had Bog not been there to grab her by the shoulders and pull her back to his chest. She then reached up and grabbed both of his hands and started squeezing harder than she had before, letting out another cry of pain with each breath she struggled to draw. That was when Bog became aware that something had just changed. 

“Come on, Marianne, _breathe!_ ” Bog reminded her, having to raise his voice over her moaning. Marianne struggled to draw in a deeper breath, and then another. Her wings had started to vibrate with this new level of pain. 

He waited until the moment it appeared there was a lull in her pain. “Are you okay? What just happened?” 

“I think…” Marianne forced down another shaky breath and looked down. Bog followed her line of sight. A puddle of fluid had appeared between Marianne’s feet and was still dripping down her legs. Bog felt the blood draining from his face. He mentally shook himself, swallowing down the panic he could feel building up. This was not the time for that. 

“Right, then. Back to bed,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. He flung the strip of petal into the fire turned her back towards the leaf pile. They barely made it two steps before Marianne grunted in pain again and her knees nearly gave out. Bog stopped and held her again. This time he could feel her body straining itself and her wings had started shaking again. As soon as it passed, he bent over and hooked his arm under her knees, lifted her up, and carried her the rest of the way to her makeshift bed. 

Marianne was gripped in another wave of pain almost as soon as Bog had her laid back down. Only this time, she started squirming and trying to sit back up. 

“Shouldn’t you be lying back?” he asked her. 

“Can’t,” she managed on an exhale through gritted teeth. “Hurts more...” Her voice faded into another cry of pain. 

“Okay, then, here,” he said in what he hoped sounded more soothing to her than it did to him and helped her back into a sitting position. Marianne shifted her grip to his wrists and held on, drawing her knees up towards herself. If this brought her any relief, though, she didn’t show it. Her body only started straining more, and Bog finally realized what she was trying to do. He would later be proud of himself that he snapped into action rather than let the panic set in like it had seemed determined to do up to this point. 

“Marianne, I need you to help me out, okay?” Bog said when the latest wave ebbed somewhat. He hadn’t let go of her arms and she was still squeezing on his wrists hard enough that he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers. She only looked at him, eyes narrowed with pain and trying to catch her breath.

“I’ve never done this before, remember? I need for you to tell me what’s going on,” he answered her unspoken question. He would have really rather she conserved her energy, but he wasn’t lying. She had spent more time with the midwives both his mother had contacted and her father had brought with him from the Fairy Kingdom while he’d been busy being a king. She would at least have a better idea of what was happening right now, if nothing else. 

She drew in a breath and gritted out, “I’ve never done this before either, just so we’re clear.” Bog only rolled his eyes. They didn’t have time to argue about it. 

But then Marianne shocked him with an agony-filled giggle. “I was joking! First thing you can do is relax, you look like you’re either going to faint or throw up.” 

Bog had gone slack-jawed at this, but then quickly recovered with an annoyed glare. Then Marianne was overcome with another wave of pain. “I’ll have you know either one is a distinct possibility right now,” he admitted while she bore down again. What air she had in her lungs came out in what he supposed was a laugh that ended on another grunt of pain. 

When Marianne could draw enough air to speak again, she grunted out, “One of—AAAUUGGH!—one of the midwives said—“ a sharp exhale and then an equally sharp inhale, “—something about the baby turning…” 

“That won’t help, though, I don’t know what to look for,” Bog said as gently as he could. Marianne wasn’t surprised by this. 

“Neither do I,” she said on another sharp exhale. “All I know is—HAAHHH!!—to keep doing this.” 

Bog could feel the growl threatening at the back of his throat. He didn’t like feeling helpless, especially when it came to Marianne. And now, that included their child. 

Marianne’s contraction ended for the moment and she pulled in another breath. “At some point, though, one of us is gonna have to look down there to see what’s going on, and I can’t do it.” She had cracked her eyes open and met his gaze again. He swallowed, and he knew Marianne could see his throat working. He knew this was coming, that it would be unavoidable. 

Marianne released one of his wrists to cup a hand to his cheek. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re going to be fine,” she reminded him. He laid his hand over hers and turned his head to kiss her palm, his lips pulling up in a nervous smile. 

“You’re right, we’re fine,” he agreed. He repeated it over and over to himself in his mind. Then he took each one of her hands and laid them over the scales on his shoulders. “That also means I’m going to need my hands now,” he said as he did so. 

She smiled up at him while he pushed her skirt over her upturned knees. Then she was hit with another contraction. While Marianne grunted and breathed her way through it, Bog gently pushed her knees apart and took a look between her legs. 

Marianne truthfully had no idea what she was asking Bog to look for. The baby’s head, she supposed, but then again, she had never actually watched a woman give birth before. Yeah, she had been in the room with her mother the day Dawn was born, but she had been relegated to wiping down her mother’s forehead and cheeks with a damp cloth. Then, when the midwife had announced that it was time to push, she held her mother’s hand and the next thing she knew, her sister had joined them. Dawn had been a really tiny baby, and Marianne’s first memory of her was the sight of her covered in blood and amniotic fluid. She also remembered being grossed out by it at the time. 

“I don’t see anything yet,” Bog told her. 

Marianne threw her head back and her groan this time was exasperated and ended with a curse. 

“Something has to be happening!” Marianne moaned. 

“You mean you can’t feel anything?” Bog asked her, slightly astonished. 

“Oh, I feel something alright. A lot of pain is what I feel,” she retorted. Then she felt another wave of burning agony coming on and bore down against another contraction. She was barely aware of her fingers digging into the spaces between his scales. But if it was hurting him, he didn’t let on. When the pain receded this time, Marianne opened her eyes again. Bog had taken the opportunity to slice off a section of her already ruined dress with his claws and now had the large square of flower petal resting on his shoulder. He was also studying her feet and where they were resting against the floor. 

“Bog?” she spoke up. She noticed off-handedly that her voice sounded a little scratchy. 

“I have an idea,” he said. Then he lifted one of her feet off the floor and braced it against his knee and then did the same with the other one. Then he put his hands back on her knees to hold them apart and looked back up at her. 

“You said it hurt less sitting up. I had a thought that maybe it wasn’t far enough,” Bog explained. 

Bog’s theory was proving correct. Her discomfort had improved by a fraction. Before she could thank him for it, pain hit her again, and this time it was more insistent than before. She could also feel something finally, _finally_ giving. Marianne gritted her teeth to bite back the screaming that wanted to escape her throat and pushed with her feet against Bog’s knees. 

She knew she was making actual progress when the pain didn’t let up. Bog, however, still hadn’t given her a sign that he could see anything. She forced her eyes open. He was watching the area between her thighs intently, his hands still holding her knees apart. Marianne noted that his face had gone a little pale. 

“ _Please_ tell me you can see something,” she ground out. 

“Almost,” he answered, his eyes meeting hers. “Don’t stop now.”

Marianne let out another irritated moan, but before she could unleash the stream of curse words ready on her tongue, she was overcome with the urge to push. She gave in to her body’s demands. 

“There! I can see it!” Bog finally exclaimed a minute later. Marianne wanted to heave a sigh of relief. Bog pulled the piece of flower petal he had torn from her dress and it disappeared between her legs. Then his other hand left her knee to join the first one as she could feel their baby finally leaving her body. She knew he was still talking to her, and she thought he was urging her to push, but she couldn’t afford the energy to focus what he was saying to her. 

She knew her agony was over when her she felt one final twisting cramp from her womb, which ended on one more cry of pain Marianne didn’t bother swallowing back. Then she released Bog’s shoulders and slumped back into the grass pile she hadn’t been aware she’d lifted herself off of. She had only just finished drawing her first relaxing breath in what felt like hours when a smaller, _very_ healthy wailing erupted from between her still upraised knees. 

Marianne lifted her head back up and looked in the direction of the new voice to see Bog staring down at the squirming bundle in his hand while the other one gently wiped fluids away from the baby’s tiny face with a corner of the makeshift blanket. And that had been the first thing Marianne had noticed. The baby fit completely in just one of his hands. 

The second thing Marianne noticed was the look of utter captivation on Bog’s face. He even had unshed tears shimmering in his eyes. 

“Bog?” she said gently. When he didn’t appear to hear her, she ignored the sharp ache in one of her legs to nudge his thigh with her foot. 

This broke him out of his spell long enough to breathe out, “It’s a girl…” before turning his full attention back on the baby in his hand. 

Marianne grinned at the news and reached out a hand towards her daughter. When Bog didn’t notice her arm, she had to kick him again. He looked up at her this time.

“Let me see her,” she gently chided him, now holding out both arms. 

“Oh! Oh, right,” he said. He carefully passed the baby to her. She also noticed that he hadn’t cut the umbilical cord yet. But as soon as Marianne had her daughter against her chest and was looking down into her face for the first time, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. She suddenly felt as captivated as Bog had looked and could feel tears pricking at her eyes. The baby, in the meantime, seemed to register her mother’s arms around her and settled into Marianne’s chest.

“She’s beautiful,” Bog said in a near whisper as he stroked the baby’s tiny cheek with a knuckle and blinked back his tears. 

“Of course she is, she’s your daughter,” Marianne said with a giggle. She was suddenly feeling a bit giddy despite her overall soreness. Bog shot her a look that suggested that there was no way their child had gotten any part of her looks from him, but he didn’t voice the thought. They had had this discussion at some length in the past and now was not the time to start another fight over it. 

It was at this point that the baby became curious about the thing brushing her cheek and reached up a tiny hand to wrap around Bog’s finger. Her fist didn’t even make it all the way around, but she put all of her strength behind it just the same. 

“She’s also as strong as her mother, it would appear,” Bog laughed. But just then the baby started pulling his finger towards her mouth, the tip of his claw far too close to her lips for the comfort of her parents. It was Marianne’s turn to laugh as Bog gently disengaged his finger from the baby’s grip.

The baby gave an annoyed whine at the separation and started squirming again. Marianne calmed her down by gently rocking her. Bog took advantage of his newly-freed hands and started cleaning Marianne up, tearing off more pieces of her dress and wetting them in the rain to do so. 

“You know, if you tear up any more of my dress, I’m not going to have anything to wear home,” Marianne teased him. Bog only shook his head at this and opted not to respond. 

“And what makes you think she has my strength anyway, huh? Maybe she got your strength.” 

“No, it was your strength,” Bog said. “I have proof.” Then he gave a pointed glance down to his left shoulder. Marianne followed his gaze until she saw the trickle of blood coming from between two of his scales where her hand had been. Her nails must have dug into the soft flesh under the plates. Then she noticed the hairline crack running across one of the scales where her hand had squeezed it. 

Marianne winced. “Sorry!” she offered.

Bog was wearing a bemused smirk. “Don’t be. After all, didn’t you threaten to break my arm if I carried you anywhere?” 

Marianne returned the grin. “I guess you’re right.”

“Exactly. So consider this payment in full,” he said as he reached over to the baby and tied off the umbilical cord with another strip torn from her dress. He then used his claws to slice through it. “Also consider it payment in advance for when this damned storm finally ends and I have to carry the two of you home.” 

Marianne wanted to protest, but she knew he was right. Her entire back was sore, not to mention the joints where her wings met her spine, and she didn’t think she’d be able to fly herself home. As Bog finished cleaning her up, the baby started squirming in agitation. Something told Marianne that the baby was looking for her first meal, so she unlaced the front of her dress with her free hand. Bog had tossed the soiled remains of her dress that he’d used as cleaning cloths outside and was cleaning his hands off in the rain as   
Marianne guided their daughter to her breast. 

“You know,” Marianne said as the baby latched on to her nipple and began drinking deeply, “we’re going to have to give her a name before we get home.” 

Marianne had been watching the baby when she had spoken, but when she realized Bog hadn’t answered her, she looked up at him. He had paused in mid-motion of shaking his hands dry and was watching her with a fascinated look. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, I just… well, I knew fairies did…” he waved a hand towards the baby. 

“…Breastfeeding?” Marianne supplied. 

“Yeah. But I’ve never actually seen it done before.” 

“I thought some goblin mothers did this too.” 

“They do, but not enough of them. And like I’ve said, I’ve never seen it actually being done.” Bog came over to join them on the grass pile by that point and settled in next to Marianne. He hadn’t taken his eyes away from the baby or Marianne’s breasts. When Bog had settled in, Marianne shifted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Out of habit he wound an arm around her shoulders. Speaking of, she noticed that he had lain down with her on the side of his uninjured shoulder. She felt like she really did owe him an apology for it, despite their joking and him telling her to not worry about it. 

It made sense, she guessed, that Bog would have never seen a woman breastfeeding before. Griselda had once explained to her that a lot of goblin babies were already born with a full set of teeth, and their parents would feed them bits of meat almost from the time they were born. 

“Does it hurt?” Bog asked after a few minutes of watching his daughter eat. 

“Not at all. She’s actually doing me a favor,” Marianne said. She had complained to Bog before about her breasts getting sore the further into her pregnancy she got. And the baby was finally here to relieve her of that. Bog nodded his understanding. 

“Anyway, names?” Marianne prompted, putting them back on her earlier subject. 

“You know we’ll never hear the end of it if we come home with a name already picked out for her, right?” Bog pointed out. 

“Yeah, but we’ll also never hear the end of it if we don’t give her a name.” 

Bog let out a soft laugh. “Damned if we do and damned if we don’t, then,” he said. 

“Exactly,” Marianne said, glancing up at him. “So I say we do it now.” 

“So then, what to name her?” Bog said thoughtfully. 

They had both settled into a contemplative silence when a distant rumble of thunder sounded. They both glanced towards the entrance. 

“Sounds like the storm is finally letting up,” Marianne commented. Then her eyes widened slightly and she glanced over at Bog. He glanced at her at the same time, and it appeared he had the same idea. 

“Storm,” they both said at the same time, and then grinned at each other. 

“A pretty bad-ass name for a princess,” Marianne said. 

“I think she’ll live up to it, though,” Bog responded, lifting up a hand to stroke her tiny cheek while she continued to eat. Baby Storm responded by grabbing his finger again, refusing to be interrupted in her meal for any reason. 

“And still as strong as her mother,” he commented. 

Marianne only grinned at him in response. Then she shut her eyes and settled back into Bog’s side, far too ready to get some rest before they returned home.


End file.
